


Not Your Omega

by zealous_whispers_of_us



Series: Not Your Omega [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alpha Bucky Barnes, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, F/M, Fluff, Omega Reader, Protective Bucky Barnes, Smut, Werewolf Bucky Barnes, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-08-26 11:37:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16680886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zealous_whispers_of_us/pseuds/zealous_whispers_of_us
Summary: She’s always cold. And it should bother him more than it does.





	Not Your Omega

**Author's Note:**

> I put this Werewolf!Bucky/Vampire!Reader AU on my tumblr, but I wanted to start transferring my work over on here in case something were to happen to it all. Also, I didn't use Bella or second person- I used the pronouns 'she' and 'her'.

She’s always cold. And it should bother him more than it does- that she is so different from him; something he’s been conditioned to hate. He’d grown up with stories of the bloodsuckers. They’d been conditioned to kill. They could never love. They were monsters. Cold, cruel, calculating. Pale skin and even paler eyes that turned blood red whenever they were hungry. And they were always hungry. They killed more humans than cancer and car accidents combined. They could hypnotize any unsuspecting werewolf faster than the wolf could howl for help. But shit despite all that, he could never hate her. He could never hate the way her feet tangled in his under the bedsheets as she sought out his warmth under the blankets. He could never hate it when her frozen lips met his, could never hate when her icy hands reached under his waistband and gripped his dick. Could never hate her when she cried early in the morning because she didn’t choose this life. Crying because she couldn’t see her reflection in the mirror. She cried bloody tears, and it made him sad.

She’s always cold, but she hates it, and she hates him for being warm all the damn time. She seeks out his body heat whenever she can. His sweaters are baggy and warm, and the sleeves fall over her hands. Sweater paws, he calls them. She is supposed to hate him, she knows. All the stories she’d heard in her four hundred years of the hairy beasts that can rip a human’s throat out in less than five seconds. Claws that can maim with a pack mentality that can turn even the oldest vampire into a scared baby bat. Growls in the night that cry for vengeance, for flesh. But shit even despite all that, she can’t hate him. Even his cock is warm. And when he comes, that weird wolf knot appendage thing swelling inside her, she feels his warmth, thinks she gets sweaty and even feverish. He once told her while they lay locked together that her cheeks were flushed red. She buried her face in his neck and cried against his sweaty skin. Four hundred years she was alone and now; she has this creature she’s supposed to hate loving her. If she believed in a higher power, she’d fall to her knees and thank them profusely.  

Tonight it’s October 5. The Hunter’s Moon, as the Pagan witches say.

She’s woken up to Bucky nosing at her cheek, whining a dog’s whine in her ear to get her attention.

“Bucky.” she groans from under her mountain of pillows. “I’m sleeping.”

“The sun is set! C'mon, ya gotta get up!”

She grumbles and rolls away from him, pulling her blanket over her face. She feels as he follows her body across their large bed and he plasters himself to her again.

“Aw, don’t make me beg, baby. Ya gotta eat ‘fore I go. You promised,” Bucky huffs.

He licks the inside of her ear with a floppy, wet tongue, and she sits up in bed so fast you’d think she’d tasted a dead man. She drags the sleep mask up her forehead and glowers.

“You are so disgusting! Urgh, your spit is so thick during the full moon!” she cries, wiping a hand down her face.

“That ain't th' only thing that’s thick, pretty doll,” Bucky rumbles, rolling her back down so he can climb on top of her.

She rolls her eyes. Bucky grins, satisfied with himself.

“You think you are just so damn clever, don’t you?” she says.

Bucky barks out a laugh and sticks his nose in her hair, inhaling her scent. He starts kneading his fingers rhythmically into the sides of her torso.

“Why are you doing that? Are you a werewolf or a werecat?” she teases.

“Shush,” he shushes her, pushing his nose into her neck and tracing his tongue carefully over the twin puncture wounds that mar her pale skin.

Vampire bites never heal. It’s why whenever he makes love to her, he sinks his teeth into the two little holes. It reminds her that she is his now. His  _omega_. His mate to care for and love on and cherish. But she’s a stubborn little thing, never wanting to submit to her alpha. And why should she, she would say when he asked? There is no such hierarchy, such a strange pack mentality, in vampire society. It is archaic; she would tell him with a scowl on her face when he asked her to present for him. She never would. She never will. Bucky loves her so much it drives him nuts.

“Baby,” she says, “As much as I love this and you, I’m starving.”

Reluctantly, he retreats from her body with an involuntary whimper. He wants to touch her all night long, wants to make her cry with pleasure, wants her to submit to him. The alpha wolf that buries itself deep in his chest is unleashed whenever the moon is full. It preens at the thought of her submitting, presenting like an excellent little omega.

She rolls her eyes at him again and gets up from the bed, her naked frame pale and shimmering under the moonlight. Bucky lets out a howl of approval.

“Oh, shut up, Twilight,” she says, but she’s grinning now.

Climbing from the bed, Bucky plasters himself to her back and touches her ear with his lips. He nibbles gently on her skin, rutting himself against her hip.

“Shouldn’t I be callin’ YOU ‘Twilight’?” he asks. “‘S mostly about vamps, after all.”

“That book is an abomination to my genus,” she says matter-of-factly, curling her fingers into Bucky’s hair. “Besides, that’s a racist term, you know that.”

Bucky grins into her wild hair. It puffs up around his face and tickles his nose.

“How could I forget? Little Vjesci,” he replies, his voice a teasing lilt.

“You never say it right. It’s pronounced ‘vyeskee,’ not vee-jez-cee. I say your species right. My furry Wawkalak.”

“Why do you say it like you’re mockin’ me?”

“Because I am.”

He growls playfully, and she laughs, her eyes glinting. She turns her head to look at him and possibly kiss him all over his wolf head, but Bucky is looking at the mirror with a love-struck expression on his face.

“What do we look like?” she wonders. “What do I look like?”

“You’re shimmerin’ in and out of focus. Love bein’ able to see ya in the mirror durin’ the full moon, baby doll. You’re glowin’ the prettiest glow. You’re absolutely gorgeous,” he says, nuzzling the back of her head.

Her face looks sad in the mirror, and she narrows her eyes, trying to see her reflection. But to no avail. She sighs heavily, and Bucky squeezes her harder.

“It’s so hard trying to do your hair when you can’t see yourself,” she murmurs.

“I know, darlin’. ’S what I’m here for, right?” Bucky answers, tickling her forehead with his long hair.

She nods, laying her head back on his shoulder, so she doesn’t have to look in the mirror anymore.

“I love you.”

He smiles widely and leans down to kiss her cheek.

“I love you too, baby. You ready to eat yet?”

“Yeah. I’m running out of blood though. I need to hunt some vermin or something.”

“Or ya could eat me,” Bucky suggests.  

“Your blood makes me grumpy,” she counters.

“No more than usual,” he jokes, letting her get away with hitting him on the side of the head.

“Not funny,” she mumbles.

Bucky kisses her cheek again and begins swaying back and forth, dancing to some song only he can hear. She goes with him willingly as he leads her in a backward dance. He lets her go for just a moment, and she spins around him playfully before he grabs her again, pressing her to his warm chest.

“Please let me go,” she says eventually. “I am about to go kill a human. I’m so fucking hungry.”

“Eat me,” Bucky says again more insistently. “C'mon, sugar. Eat me. I want ya to. Ya know I taste good.”

“Don’t tempt me. Please.”

“Eat me!” he urges, his grip tightening around her.

She tries to pull herself from his grip, but he’s way too strong for her right now.

“Buck, stop. Let me go.”

“Not ‘till ya promise to eat me!” he sings.

"Bucky, that’s enough. Stop it. Please.”

He mumbles something under his breath that she misses. She wiggles in his arms, straining with the effort to escape. He’s so ridiculously strong during the few days leading up to the full moon. But his strength is incomparable on the night of the full moon. Bucky is the leader of his pack, and as such, he is the strongest. He’s much  _much_  stronger than even she is and vampires are renowned for their strength. She loves how he can benchpress her. It makes her body flush with desire.

Bucky pushes his leg between her knees and moves his hands so he can grab onto her hips. He starts moving her back and forth as he flexes his thigh underneath her. His jeans give her the perfect amount of friction. She sighs, taking over the motions and grinding down on him harder.

"There she is," Bucky purrs. “C'mon ya know ya want to. I taste so good, don’t I? You love how I taste, don’t ya? Eat me, pretty thing.”

"ENOUGH!” she shouts.

Her eyes are finally dark in the mirror, irises glowing red with bloodlust. His baby doll is hungry for her next meal. She hasn’t eaten fresh blood in days, choosing instead to suck down chilled bags of B positive from the blood bank down the street. She needs that warm, _right outta the body_ blood, especially on the night of this full moon. Bucky smiles so sweetly at her in the mirror. She snarls at him, curling her lip, so she flashes him the buds of her fangs. Her teeth glint in the darkness of their shared bedroom.

“Ya know I taste good right between the thighs,” he goads, loving when she’s angry. “My femoral’s the most flavorful for ya.”

“Do NOT tempt me.”

“Aw. Why not? I taste like sex, don’t I? You love it, don’t ya, my blood? ‘S all for you, my pretty doll. You’re hungry, aren’t ya? I know you are.”

Three beats of silence stretch like taffy between them. Her eyes narrow and Bucky knows he’s won.

“Lay on the bed,” she hisses. “And get naked.”

Delighted, Bucky swats her on the ass and hurries to take off his clothes. He’s so eager that he trips getting out of his pants. He catches himself and slips his boxers off. As soon as he is bare as the day he was born, Bucky sprawls out against the navy sheets, looking like sin reincarnated. She fights back a whine before she jumps on him, pressing all of her cold body against his warm one. Bucky shivers, and she moans again, sinking into his warmth.

“You’re so hot,” she says, running one sharp nail down the side of Bucky’s neck. “And your heart is so strong.”

Bucky whimpers and arches his back. She laughs darkly, flashing her teeth.

“Your blood is my favorite,” she continues, kissing down his torso. “It's so flavorful. Tastes like the sweetest sin on my tongue, baby. You  _always_  taste like sex; I could just come whenever I taste you.”

She’s between his thighs now, and Bucky shifts on the bed, the sheets crumpling beneath him, as he opens his legs wider. His dick is drooling precome onto his stomach in such a steady stream that it runs down the sides of his torso and leaves little damp spots on their sheets. She slithers down gracefully, and Bucky hears the soft ‘snick’ of her fangs. He whines, nearly panting for it beneath her.

“Are you sure?” she asks.

“Please,” Bucky says softly. “I want it so bad, sweet omega.”

A cold hand places itself on his dick, tugging it once as a warning. Her red eyes meet his.

“I need your permission, Bucky.”

“Go on,” he says immediately, the desperate laugh from his mouth sounding wrecked, “Take what you want. Make it messy.”

Her pleased giggle sounds just as wrecked as his. Bucky watches in rapt attention as she leans down. She presses a kiss to his dick. He counts to five in his head and then, with her eyes still locked on his, she sinks her fangs into the side of his upper thigh. Bucky yips and jumps about a foot off the bed. It hurts, fuck, it  _hurts._ But it feels so  _goddamn good_.  

“Yeah,” he pants. “Oh fuck, yeah. Mm darlin’, you know jus’ what I like.”

She drinks deeply. Bucky howls, excited and lost in his lust. Her hand, covered in his blood, trails up until she has hold of his cock. Bucky whines and howls again when she starts jerking him off. It’s so good and messy, how he loves it. Her cold hands are a gorgeous contrast to the flood of warmth rushing through his body.

Quickly, Bucky starts to get dizzy, and he begins seeing stars. He lets out a warning woof and prods her with his foot to get her attention. Her fangs pop free from his skin, and she looks up at him like sin reincarnated. Her mouth is smeared in blood, her fangs dripping all down her chin and onto her breasts. Her eyes are back to normal as she stares down at him, concern creasing her forehead. She’s so beautiful. Bucky reaches for her and she crawls up his body until she’s hovering over him entirely, her body pressed completely to his. He reaches out and runs his thumb across her lip, wiping off the blood. Her hand is still working his dick.

“You okay?” she asks.

Bucky offers her his blood covered finger, and she sucks on it gently, looking at him with worry.

“Yeah,” he finally answers. “’M okay. Think ‘m gonna come.”

“Oh no not yet, please. I want your knot. Can I?”

Bucky sits up with her straddling his hips and wraps his arms around her back.

“’Course you can. Don’t even hafta ask me,” he says, kissing her forehead. “You gonna present for me like a good little omega?”

She snorts. “You fucking wish, wolf.”

“All day, every day, pretty doll,” he replies cheekily. “Now, c’mere an’ ride me for all I’m worth.”

She presses a gentle kiss to Bucky’s forehead before pushing on his chest until he gets the message and flops back down onto the sheets. Climbing to her knees, she wiggles around until she’s hovering just over Bucky’s cock. His wolf knot thingy is close to blowing, and she giggles, poking it with interest. Such strange anatomy, wolves have. His face turns scarlet, and she smiles, running her fingers down his chest to tell him without words that she is _not_  laughing at him. How can she when he’s as handsome and willing as he is?

“My alpha,” she says clearly. “Such a handsome wolf.”

Bucky audibly swallows and looks up at her immediately, his gaze heavy and dark. His hands reflexively tighten around her hips. In one quick motion, she drops down on his lap, burying himself inside her. Bucky lets out a soft little howl of pleasure. His eyes flutter closed, but she runs her nails down his chest. He yelps and those gorgeous eyes open again.

“Say it again,” he moans.

“My alpha,” she chants as she bounces on his lap, “My alpha. My alpha.”

Bucky’s breath punches out of him, and he gawks up at her, hardly daring to believe it. But there she is, staring down at him as she waits for him to answer her. The alpha wolf in his chest growls with delight, preening at its proper title, and then Bucky can’t take it anymore and he tackles her, rolling them over on the bed until he’s on top.

“Omega,” he rumbles. “My pretty omega.”

She won’t present for him and that’s all right. He’s accepted this. But she’s never used his title before and Bucky thinks that’s gotta be some kind of progress. His alpha instincts completely take him over and he grabs her wrists, holding them up over her head and then uses that as leverage to push himself completely inside her. She moans at how warm he feels and scrabbles to wrap her legs around his hips. Her toes are freezing and Bucky wants to laugh, but he can’t, not with how she feels, not with how she looks. She gazes up at the ceiling, eyes glazed over. His blood is pumping through her veins and she wants to blame her sudden submission on the werewolf blood, but that isn’t the real truth, she knows. He’s stronger than her and she loves it. She loves feeling weaker than something. Four hundred years on this planet and she never met any creature that made her feel as protected and smaller than Bucky does now.

“’Mega,” Bucky purrs. “Look at me, baby.”

She drags her heavy gaze to his and he smiles tenderly, though his thrusts are anything but. Sweat drips from Bucky’s brow onto her chest and he leans down to lap it up. When he brings his eyes back up to hers, he grins, showing her his teeth covered in his blood. The sight is so erotic to her just then that she lets out a loud cry of his name. Bucky makes some kind of stupid wolf noise and moves his hips faster, drilling himself into her welcoming body. She’s so cold. It feels fucking amazing. Bucky feels his knot starting to catch and his breath hitches.

“’Mega. ‘M gonna come,” he whines. “You there for me?”

She shakes her head but then arches her back as he manages to hit the right spot inside her.

“Bucky!” she yells.

“Right there, huh? I gotcha, honey. You gonna come for me?”

He lets go of her wrists and trails his hand down her neck, her stomach until he settles his thumb firmly on her clit. Bucky bites his lip at the sweet little noise she emits as he tries to rein himself in. Setting his jaw, he moves his hips faster, angling himself just right as his finger works the little nub. Her cries get higher in pitch until she sounds so beautiful that Bucky can’t help it and growls in response.

“Come for me, omega,” he commands. “Come for me.  _Now!”_

Her back arches again, nearly knocking her head against Bucky’s as she orgasms, her body squeezing around him.

“Oh fuck, omega. That’s it. That’s it. You feel so fuckin’ good. ’M so close. Ya got me feelin’ so good, darlin’.”

His words end up getting her to squeeze him even tighter, so tight that Bucky can feel his dick actually pulsing, and then at the exact moment when his knot blows and he’s coming inside her, filling her up with his warm cum. Bucky lets out an ear-splitting howl and wraps his arms around her back, tugging her to his chest and she moans, rolling her hips as she feels him give her  _everything._

He doesn’t think he’d ever come for this long before and when he is finally relaxed, Bucky rolls them over until he can finagle them into a comfortable position as they wait for his knot to deflate. He runs his fingers through her hair, pressing kiss after kiss after kiss to her face. Her cheeks are flushed pink and she hasn’t opened her eyes since she came for him.

“’Mega,” he coos. “Pretty omega, you here with me?”

Her eyes flutter open and she looks up at him with big eyes.

“Hi Bucky,” she murmurs.

“Hey, pretty thing,” he says with a wide grin. “My omega feelin’ good?”

“Mmhm,” she hums, stretching as best as she can with him still inside her, “Baby doll’s feeling _incredible_.”

Bucky grins and kisses her thumb before tangling his fingers with hers.

“That’s good, baby doll. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, baby,” she says, kissing his chest. “Thanks for the blood.”

“Anythin’ for my sweet ‘mega,” says Bucky.

She bites his pec in warning. “You’re pushing your limits tonight with calling me that.”

Bucky laughs and playfully snaps his teeth at her. Her eyes narrow and she lets her fangs slip free. She curls her lip so the light hits them and Bucky shivers at the sight.

“Imagine if your pack knew you were  _my_ omega,” she teases.

**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr is zealous-whispers-of-us if you wanted to check it out. (I have no overarching theme though. Fair warning).


End file.
